


Unfolding

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What—” Aramis begins, stops, swallows down.  He asks, in a quiet, little voice: “What would I do without you?” </p>
<p>Porthos makes a sound, looks down at their hands, up at him again.  “I’m not going anywhere.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfolding

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt for Porthos taking a hit for Aramis, and Aramis being so overwhelmed he can't even sew it up properly.

It’s a clean slice from shoulder to mid-back and it’s a miracle it missed his spine, really. Porthos doesn’t voice this out loud because he knows what the words would cause, but he flinches as Aramis finishes cleaning the wound. 

He can’t see his face but he can hear the unsteady rasp of his breath behind him. The hand holding his shoulder in place is trembling. Porthos bites at his lip, flinches again, and curses out. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t get hurt next time!” Aramis suddenly bursts out, in response to the flinch. 

Porthos hears him curse, hears shuffling around. There’s a long silence in which neither speak, and there’s the little flutter of movement behind him. Porthos waits for the needle and it doesn’t come. 

Eventually, he turns to look over his shoulder in time to see Aramis struggling to thread the needle. His hands are shaking too much, the thread refusing to pass through the needle’s eye. Aramis keeps chewing on his lip, clearly agitated and uncertain and not able to function on something he normally excels at so completely.

“Aramis,” he begins. 

“Don’t,” Aramis answers, immediately, drops the needle. 

Porthos turns completely and fetches it for him, his movements slow and uncertain. He holds the needle out to him and Aramis struggles to take it. 

Porthos reaches out, closes his hand around Aramis’, feels it trembling beneath his hold. 

“What—” Aramis begins, stops, swallows down. He asks, in a quiet, little voice: “What would I do without you?” 

Porthos makes a sound, looks down at their hands, up at him again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I – I told you that you need to be careful,” Aramis says, reaches out and touches at Porthos’ uninjured shoulder, rests his hand there – a heavy burden, Aramis staring at him as if he is about to break down, as if this is the first time he’s ever been in danger of losing someone – or, rather, that he is one person away from it being too much. It’s already been too much. 

“And I am,” Porthos says.

“You weren’t,” Aramis snaps. “It’s – I’m not worth this.” 

Porthos frowns, studies their hands. He unfolds his fingers from around his knuckles, takes the needle from him, and manages to fumble through threading it for him despite his thick, knotted up fingers. 

“Of course you are,” he says, easy as that. He knows there’s no sense in fighting it with Aramis. Instead, he merely offers that truth – again and again, until Aramis can believe it himself.


End file.
